George Gordon Noel Byron

His heart was one of those which most enamour us,
Wax to receive, and marble to retain.

His heart was one of those which most enamour us,
Wax to receive, and marble to retain.

Her eye (I'm very fond of handsome eyes)
Was large and dark, suppressing half its fire
Until read more

Her eye (I'm very fond of handsome eyes)
Was large and dark, suppressing half its fire
Until she spoke, then through its soft disguise
Flash'd an expression more of pride than ire,
And love than either; and there would arise,
A something in them which was not desire,
But would have been, perhaps, but for the soul,
Which struggled through and chansten'd down the whole.

Ah! happy years! once more who would not be a boy!

Ah! happy years! once more who would not be a boy!

We two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years.

We two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years.

There was no great disparity of years,
Though much in temper; but they never clash'd,
They moved read more

There was no great disparity of years,
Though much in temper; but they never clash'd,
They moved like stars united in their spheres,
Or like the Rhone by Leman's waters wash'd,
Where mingled and yet separate appears
The river from the lake, all bluely dash'd
Through the serene and placid glassy deep,
Which fain would lull its river-child to sleep.